Of Sound Minds and Memories
by purebloodwhispers
Summary: Following the war and the trials that came after, the survivors have finally begun to move on. Harry, a trainee auror, knows he has one last person to thank, but little does he know that a well meaning social call will turn lives upside down as Harry begins to understand the strange world of his old enemies. Family, legal, drama. (possibly later Drarry slash)
1. Chapter 1: HARRY

**Following the war and the trials that came after, the survivors have finally begun to move on. Harry, a trainee auror, knows he has one last person to thank, but little does he know that a well meaning social call will turn lives upside down as Harry begins to understand the strange world of his old enemies. Family, legal, drama.**

* * *

 _Narcissa Black Malfoy_

 _Malfoy Manor_

 _Wiltshire_

 _Dear Mr Potter,_

 _I am writing to thank you for the offer you made me. I am however, obliged to decline said offer due to personal circumstances._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Narcissa Black Malfoy_

The letter was curt but polite and written in the finest handwriting. It was folded neatly too and sealed with the green wax and the Malfoy seal. Harry read through it thrice through, despite having taken in its information with less than a brief glance.

"What's that?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked, glancing over at the letter, apparently concerned by Harry's expression.

"Nothing, Minister." Harry said folding it.

"Harry, we aren't at the Ministry, there's no reason for titles right now."

"I keep forgetting." Harry grinned and folded the letter back and pushed into the pocket of his robes as tidily as possible. The fine screech owl raised its wings and flew back off into the morning sky realising, perhaps, that it would not need to wait for a reply.

They were seated in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Every day it became cleaner and more inhabitable thanks to the efforts of the house elf, Kreacher. Still, there was a silence in its emptiness that Harry could barely stand. He almost missed its squalid state that he first found it in. For in those days it had been alive with people. Yes, they were all in danger, and their tensions were high but every now and then he would turn and get a glimpse of his godfather, Sirius in the next room or share a joke with Tonks and Lupin. In those moments they could forget, even for a second, they were fighting a war, and when they did not forget, they were reminded what it was all for. Nothing however, for all of Kreacher's house keeping efforts, could distract Harry enough to forget all that had been lost.

A year had passed since it all finished, even the last of the trials were finally over. The Ministry was beginning to rebuild itself, and those who had lost their loved ones were beginning to see a way of continuing their own lives. Still, in the silence and the emptiness, Harry would remember how so many friends were no longer around.

"How are Ginny and Hermione, enjoying their last year at Hogwarts?" the Minister asked.

"Oh…yes…I think so. It's weird to think of Hermione being at school without Ron and me though. They'll be home soon."

"Do you regret it?"

"Hermione was always more academic than me. I don't think I could go back to school now…not after everything."

"I agree…it would be strange. Well you and Ron are the only school drop outs to make the Auror training programme. I think that's more impressive than a few O's in you NEWTs Is it to your liking then?"

"I'm not going to lie. It's harder than I expected it would be."

"Nothing you can't handle though."

"Having survived the worst of it…I almost think I'm being tested on some irrelevant stuff." Harry said, but fearing he might sound stroppy he smiled and added "Sometimes…"

Kingsley laughed a deep, belly laugh and took a sip of his coffee.

"Maybe you're right, Potter, but maybe you're not. You never know what life may throw at you again. But, if you really think that your training is superfluous, then work hard…and maybe you can revolutionise the auror department yourself. Become Head Auror some day."

Harry thought about such a prospect and grinned.

"If I do…I'll earn it fair and square. Being accepted into the Auror training programme without the qualifications is the last hand out I'll ever accept…do you understand?" He added seriously. Kingsley cleared his throat and assumed Harry's own expression.

"That's very honourable of you, Potter, if I do say so myself."

They stared at each other for a moment before both burst out laughing.

"Anyway Potter, I have no wish to divulge any of your secrets…but I must ask. What did Mrs Malfoy have to say?"

"What? H-how did you?"

"The superfluous training of the auror office has somehow managed to make me astute at minor detective work…nothing fancy. Oh and I also recognised the bird from Lucius Malfoy's old days at the Ministry. The owl I mean…not his wife." He added, laughing again and gestured to the window. "So what do you want with Mrs Malfoy?"

It felt stupid to hide it now, so Harry, with a sigh explained the situation.

"Remember, you asked me the other day you asked me if I had any names to put forth for the Order of Merlin awards."

"Yes. You gave me a list of dead people amongst the living we'd already selected."

"Yeah…well… there was one more. I didn't want to put her name forward though, not without, you know, permission?"

"Because of Mrs Malfoy's part in saving your life?"

"Even during the trials, she specifically requested, and paid a lot of money to keep the knowledge of what she did to a minimum. All the press found out was that she had paid a special service to me and defected early."

"Most people think she paid you off."

"It tarnishes both our reputations, I don't really care…but I don't understand why she'd want that. Anyway…after what she did, it didn't feel right not offering her the award, even if I knew she'd turn it down."

"I'm sure it meant a lot to her, Harry." Kingsley said.

"Somehow I think I offered it to her more for my sake than hers. Despite everything, I don't like the Malfoys any more than I did during war. I sometimes kick myself to wonder how they escaped punishment again."

"Not entirely, Lucius is serving time."

"Not life though."

"No…but for the majority of the last of his best years." Kingsley said. "I doubt he'll ever hurt a fly again after that, and he'll be watched. As for Narcissa and Draco, I thought you were adamant they were to be treated leniently. You stood as a witness for them."

"Draco saved my life too." Harry added bitterly. "It might not have been so dramatic but he did. I don't like being indebted to the Malfoys…perhaps that's the problem."

"It could well be. Harry, if this is really bothering you, why don't you pay Mrs Malfoy a visit?"

"Are you serious?"

"I am indeed. One of the greatest lessons you can learn on your way to becoming an auror is to know and understand your enemy. I think you of all people should know that better than anyone. And if Mrs Malfoy is your 'friend' then she deserves to be understood even more so."

* * *

Certain Mrs Malfoy would refuse entry to him if he wrote in advance, inviting himself to the Manor. Harry took the decision to turn up uninvited at the Malfoy Manor. Hermione had been very against the idea, noting that it was "impolite and more likely to put her in a bad mood" than if he announced his arrival properly. Ron was against the idea completely for other reasons, "Mate, it's done. Leave the Malfoys alone, I thought that was all over with now. Don't start with that obsession again!"

Ginny on the other hand had given him the idea of knocking on her front door. "She would turf you out if she didn't want you there, whether you wrote in advance or not. You might as well take the chance before she thinks it through too much. If it's what you really want, anyway." She had written. However, none of them could disagree with Kingsley's advice about knowing your enemy and understanding your friends. Whatever form they might come in.

It was why, on a pleasant afternoon, with weather that placed itself somewhere between Spring and Summer Harry found himself on the outskirts of a picturesque village in Wiltshire. The Manor was located in the neighbouring downs that looked upon it.

As Harry hiked up the hill, he continued to doubt himself. Perhaps cornering Mrs Malfoy in her house was too harsh. Contrasting much to his last and only visit to the Manor, Harry did not suspect he was in any danger. However, he did wonder how Mrs Malfoy would react to, up until the previous year, her greatest enemy, turning up on her doorstep.

The house did not seem quite as intimidating as it did before. In the bright sunshine, the imposing building looked every bit the luxurious manor Malfoy had boasted of in school. Vines and ivy had weaved their way along the wrought iron gates. Remembering, with difficulty, the night of his capture, Harry instinctively touched the gate, it seemed to shake under his hand and wearily it contorted into a face.

"State your business." It said hoarsely.

"Uh…Harry Potter…to see Mrs Malfoy." He muttered unsurely. There was long pause, and the face disappeared, returning to its original state then opened with a rusty squeak. Harry walked along the gravel drive making out the sound of a fountain beyond the high hedgerows. As expected, the front door opened of its own accord and Harry found himself in the great hallway of the Malfoy Manor. On his previous visit, Harry had not had much opportunity to take in the sumptuous decorations; the wall to wall green Persian rug, the carved ceilings and the portraits of Malfoy Ancestors hanging on each side of the room. A set of double doors opened ahead of him, revealing the great staircase that lead up to the gallery, from where Harry caught sight of Mrs Malfoy looking down at him. From so high up, she looked ever the snob, Harry had first seen at the Quidditch World Cup. Her pale face was both illuminated by the sun pouring in from the large windows and hidden in the shadows of the column beside her.

"Mrs Malfoy?" Harry said unsurely, unable to read her mood. She disappeared from the gallery and made her way swiftly, and unsmilingly, down the staircase.

"Harry Potter." She said, not reaching out to shake his hand (Harry was glad that he had not offered it). Her robes were plain and a little faded, but a hint of grandeur remained behind. Her face, still attractive had been aged slightly by stress, but her loose blonde hair made her seem younger than her years. Her eyes were cold.

"I am afraid Draco is not here."

"I didn't come to see Draco…It's you I wanted to see." He explained. Her eyes studied him for a moment, her mouth curved slightly into an insincere smile and she gestured for him to step into the next room. It was a family sitting room, consisting of a number of fine decorations as well as two large sofas and a high backed arm chair surrounding a hearth.

"Would you care for tea?" She asked as he sat down on one of the sofas. He had barely answered in confirmation when she magicked a silver tea set onto the side table, the cups filled themselves automatically.

"Thank you."

"Are you well?" She asked politely

"Yes, thanks…and uh…are you?"

"Quite well." She said without consideration, as if any other response was unthinkable. "Well, for what is it that I owe the honour of this unexpected visit."

"I'm sorry I didn't write first, I thought if I did, you were bound to tell me not to come."

"That is rather the issue with invitations, but you're here now, so I assume it is concerning something rather important."

"It's um…" Harry reached into his pocket. "It's about this letter you sent me, about the award."

Mrs Malfoy stared at it and pursed her lips.

"Was it unclear?"

"It was clear…but I wanted to know why?"

"I explained the reasons were personal…that usually implies a wish for privacy."

"I know…and I really did debate whether or not to come here today. But you see, Mrs Malfoy, I've lived to regret not asking people questions at the time ...so now when I want to know something-"

"You ask right away?" She finished. Then for the first time, a smile appeared on her face. It was not warm, and if anything it looked like a smirk. It was not like Draco's smirk which mirrored his Father's. It was as if she was recalling something amusing from long ago.

"Sort of, yeah."

"As much as I would like to put your mind at ease, Mr Potter. I am afraid I am unable to do so. My reasons for declining your generous award are somewhat abstract and long winded, I have no desire to recall them…nor to bore you with them. If you thought that you might be enlightened somehow by them, for whatever reason you have, I am afraid you are quite mistaken. They are of no interest to anyone but myself."

"Oh…I see."

"I'm terribly sorry to have wasted your time." She said politely and insincerely.

"Then…can you answer me something else, Mrs Malfoy?" Harry asked. Mrs Malfoy made no response. "Why did you save me…back in the woods that day?"

"I didn't. I saved my son and you were the only chance I had." She said, almost with offence. Harry shook his head, that was the answer that bothered him.

"No. It doesn't add up. You could have found out Draco was alive…then told Voldemort I was playing dead, he'd have me killed properly, the fighting would have stopped and you would have all won and gone home rejoicing. Draco too."

"And then what?" She asked him. "Tell me, Harry Potter. After the Dark Lord killed you, what would have happened to my family then?"

"You were loyal to him-"

"Do you think that would be enough? I would see if you drew breath, and give you away so that my family would be admired and celebrated for their great deeds in the war? Is that how you think it would have been?"

"I know the Dark Lord was angry with Mr Malfoy."

"And for which we were and would always be punished. I made a decision in the forest. I chose Azkaban for my husband and scorn for my son, but they are alive…so I do not regret it." Her voice wavered for a moment as if with anger, but her neatly crossed hands and downcast eyes remained composed. "Please don't paint me as some hero for your cause…or even your conscience, Harry Potter. If betraying you in the forest would have meant peace for my family I would have done it. I have played my part in the battlefield and in the courts. I wish to be left alone with the truth now at last."

Harry felt a sudden twitch of anger.

"So what you're saying is, you're ashamed to be associated with the winning side, with the Order's side. You can't admit a Malfoy might have helped the blood traitors and the "mudbloods."

Mrs Malfoy stared at him coolly, her eyes slightly widened with surprise at his outburst, but Harry did not back down. Mrs Malfoy may have saved his life, but she was still one of the many who had escaped Azkaban while continuing their obsession with blood hierarchy. She was nothing but a pureblood supremacist with an obsessive love for her son. Self preservation was all the Malfoys cared about, like most Slytherins. No cause, good or bad, was worth their efforts.

"We are of different worlds, Harry Potter. I do not ask you to understand." She responded.

"To understand? There's nothing to understand." He shook his head.

"Isn't there? How unusual."

"Why? You never tried to understand our side. You never cared about our reasons…why should I?"

Narcissa Malfoy stared at him in silence. For a moment Harry wondered if she was struggling to think of a retort. Then as she looked away, he thought, wildly, that she was about to cry. However, she simply stood up.

"I think its better that you leave now, Mr Potter. I thank you for calling on me today. It has been an interesting experience for both of us I'm sure. I believe you can find your own way out."

And she gestured to the door.

* * *

AN: More coming soon. Hope you found it intriguing...reviews are a great encouragement.


	2. Chapter 2: HARRY (cont)

**Summary:** Following the war and the trials that came after, the survivors have finally begun to move on. Harry, a trainee auror, knows he has one last person to thank, but little does he know that a well meaning social call will turn lives upside down as Harry begins to understand the strange world of his old enemies. Family, legal, drama.

* * *

 **HARRY ( _cont.)_**

"I almost thought you weren't coming." Mrs Tonks said upon answering the door.

"Sorry, I got held up. Is he asleep?" Harry asked with disappointment. Mrs Tonks shook her head, and signalled for him to step into the house.

Mrs Tonks home was very quiet, save for the sound of the baby giggling in the living room and playing with his toys, which sounded very out of place. It was a modest home, neither very large nor very small, but it was immaculately tidy and well cared for.

Mrs Tonks was also immaculately tidy from her dark brown hair, streaked with grey, rolled back into an old fashioned chignon, to her simple black robes that emphasised her tall and slender proportions. Her face was bare and her eyes were shadowy as always.

"His naps are a little less frequent now, he's getting into a new routine." She said serenely as they watched the baby as he gurgled with fascination at the little broomstick that whirled around his head.

"He seems to be growing more each time I see him."

"His hair needs cutting. He keeps growing it out whenever I do give it a trim, just like, well…as these Metamorphmagi do." She sighed, and as if on cue, the boy's hair turned a shocking violet and he shrieked with joy.

To be perfectly honest, Harry found visiting Teddy and Mrs Tonks an awkward experience. He didn't know much about children, and always felt self conscious when he tried to play with him. Mrs Tonks would sit back in one of the arm chairs and would stare at them silently. Occasionally, she would ask Harry a question about mutual acquaintances, or how he was getting on with his auror training, but she never joined in with playing with Teddy, nor did she ever smile. Harry had never actually seen Mrs Tonks smile.

She was still in mourning. Others had lost people, but eventually they found themselves laughing and had realised moving on was difficult but not altogether impossible. Teddy was happy, healthy, well fed and well cared for, so clearly Mrs Tonks had pulled herself together enough to get on with responsibilities, just not frivolities. Harry was not actually sure he liked her very much, she was cold and her resemblance to her late sister, Bellatrix still unnerved him. Then all of a sudden, he remembered. Narcissa Malfoy was also her sister. They looked nothing like each other, except for their cold countenances.

"I do believe it is time for his nap now." Mrs Tonks said, "I'm sorry, but do stay for some tea. Molly sent me some more of that rhubab crumble, it's rather huge and I can't finish it alone." She explained, as she lifted the boy into her arms and carried him from the room. With a cheeky smile the boy's eyes lingered on Harry's.

Harry sighed and absent mindedly cleared the toys away, then while he waited he wandered around Mrs Tonks' living room, paying heed to her photographs.

There were of course the expected pictures of Nymphadora Tonks, at various ages, one in particular was pulled to the front, showed six year old Nymphadora, sporting bright green hair sitting on her father's lap. They had the same smiley, cheeky face that Teddy had also inherited. Other photos were of Nymphadora and Remus Lupin's small wedding ceremony; Nymphadora's last day at Hogwarts; a photo of newborn Teddy Lupin and a faded one of a young Mrs Tonks and her husband on their own wedding day. There were only a few guests (most looking distinctly muggle) hovering around the couple. Mrs Tonks was smiling there, shielding herself from waves of over enthusiastic, enchanted confetti in the most dignified way she could, while her husband laughed animatedly and tried to shield her from it under his arms.

"Ah." A voice said behind him. Mrs Tonks had stepped in, a tray of rhubarb crumble and tea hovered beside her.

"Sorry I was just…"

"No…please, go ahead and look all you like." Mrs Tonks said, guiding the rhubarb crumble to a side table that slid out gracefully. The silence had become significantly awkward, and Harry found he had long since run out of questions to ask about Teddy. With some deliberation, he brought up Mrs Malfoy. It would either make the conversation more interesting, or even more awkward.

"I uh…saw your sister today." He said as casually as he could between mouthfuls of crumble. Mrs Tonks raised her eyebrows.

"My...I see." She responded. Harry gulped and mumbled an apology. "No need for that, Harry." She said waving her hand. "I'm an old woman now, I can speak about the past. How was Narcissa?"

"Oh…um…fine…pretty much the same as always."

"Where was she? I didn't think she was very welcome in the Ministry."

"No I went to visit her…at the Malfoy Manor."

Mrs Tonks stared at him curiously.

"Did you" She said simply. Harry sighed, he reluctant to admit that he had been considering awarding an Order of Merlin award to the woman who had disowned her, so he mumbled it out vaguely. However, Mrs Tonks only sighed..

"Of course. It was business."

"What do you mean?"

"I feel a fool to say it, but for a moment I suppose I wondered if…oh Merlin it sounds pathetic to say it out loud, I thought she might have invited you to ask something of myself."

"Oh…no…sorry she didn't."

"Of course,"

"No, I mean. I wasn't there very long though…I sort of insulted her and got kicked out." He said sheepishly, hoping that Mrs Tonks would accept the excuse of his interrupted visit as the reason for Mrs Malfoy's continuing denial of her sister's existence. Mrs Tonks shook her head, and suddenly let out a slight laugh and the first smile he had ever seen on her.

"Thank you for your diplomacy, Harry. It is much appreciated, believe me. I wonder though, not that I have any wish to see her mind you, but I do wonder about her from time to time. We were very close once."

Harry was surprised to hear it, of course, Mrs Tonks and Mrs Malfoy were sisters, so it made sense that they liked each other at some point but since Sirius had hated his family so much (with the one exception of Mrs Tonks) he had assumed it would have been the same for her.

"Sirius always said you were his favourite cousin?" Harry explained. Actually Sirius had only mentioned it once, but Harry improvised, hoping it would keep Mrs Tonks up in her good mood. It seemed to work, because Mrs Tonks laughed.

"Did he really? Well Sirius came to respect me in hindsight for my actions…I was the first rebel, I suppose, the original patent." She smirked. "Growing up, I reckon, he thought we were all rather annoying. Bella was wild, but in a way Sirius disliked, and Cissy was a goody-two-shoes…perhaps I was the best out of bad bunch? It was kind of him to say so though, he was the only one I kept in touch with, until his arrest, of course."

Harry was always eager to hear more stories about Sirius.

"Was Sirius always different to the rest of the rest of the Black family?"

Mrs Tonks leant back and looked up thoughtfully into her memories before she recounted.

"He was always naughty…absolutely and irrevocably so, although I can't say that was an uncommon trait in the children. Sirius though, he did _everything_ to gain attention! He stole things, he tormented the portraits, _he tormented the house elf_ , he cut up his mother's clothes, hung baby brother, Regulus out of a window by a rope, not to mention the time he tried to set Reggie on fire."

Harry, was beginning to feel the same way he did when he first found out the truth about his father being a school bully; embarrassed and despondent. Mrs Tonks did not seem to notice and continued gently.

"However, if you are asking if he was born a "blood traitor" then no…we tend to be bred rather than born." She poured herself more tea. "It might be difficult to imagine, Harry, but we were all once the same as my dear sister, we cursed muggleborns for most of the world's problems, avoided muggle areas, shunned anything that was associated with their world. Sirius too, although, when he found out that befriending muggles upset his mother, he began on a journey of enlightenment fairly quickly."

"I can't imagine either you or him being like…you know, one of _them_..."

"Well it was a different world from what you know. We were very private and very separate…it is difficult for anyone to understand." She explained. "I was not as unhappy as Sirius though, if I hadn't met my husband, I may have stayed with them and put up with it…but who knows how things may or may not have been." She added to Harry's shocked expression.

"Mrs Malfoy said the same thing today…about it being a different world, and that I wouldn't understand." He explained. "You see, she turned down the Order of Merlin, despite doing what she did in the war. She doesn't like the fact that she helped our side one bit."

"She turned it down, did she?" Mrs Tonks asked coldly

"She said she performed no act of bravery, but that saving me was the best hope for her family."

"Well… she was always very pragmatic, no one can take that away from her. Were you surprised Narcissa turned down her award?"

"Sort of…she was quite private about her trial, she didn't want much getting out to the press; it makes sense if she doesn't want the world to think she's a blood traitor."

Mrs Tonks shook her head, regretfully.

"All those worries just so her descendants don't remember her as Narcissa Malfoy the blood traitor."

"That never bothered you then?"

"No! I had the Ted's love that was all that mattered. Tell me…who do you think Narcissa loves?"

"Her husband? Her son, definitely." Harry answered, easily.

"Exactly! She'll do whatever is best for them, because she loves them, she doesn't care much what the world thinks, as long as she has their approval and keeps them safe. I suppose it's easier for her to be apolitical while Lucius is in prison and her son is being watched, she'll do what she can to keep up appearances but won't want to shock her family by going too far over to the other side. You won't find her suddenly embracing muggles and blood traitors. Everyone knows what her views on it are."

"So that's it? There's no hope for all the pureblood supremacists, they can't all be changed like you and Sirius did?"

Mrs Tonks shrugged.

"Narcissa has no reason to love muggles, she has no reason to love Death Eaters either. She probably wants to pretend none of it happened and can live wrapped up in her little world with her boy and pretend everything is perfect. People don't just change their opinions because they are right or wrong, Harry, they change their opinions because something has convinced them too. I met my husband; Sirius found his friends. Narcissa, and all the others, have never found a reason good enough or experienced anything strong enough to change their views." She explained. "By this point, I think we can agree that nothing else is likely to change that."

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for Reading**

 **PBW**


	3. Chapter 3: NARCISSA

Books » Harry Potter » **Of Sound Minds and Memories**

Author: purebloodwhispers

1\. Chapter 1: HARRY 2. Chapter 2: HARRY (cont) 3. Chapter 3: NARCISSA 4. Chapter 4: HARRY 5. Chapter 5: NARCISSA 6. Chapter 6: HARRY 7. Chapter 7: HARRY (cont) 8. Chapter 8: NARCISSA

Rated: T - English - Family/Drama - Reviews: 6 - Published: 05-28-15 - Updated: 06-18-15

id:11277962

 **Following the war and the trials that came after, the survivors have finally begun to move on. Harry, a trainee auror, knows he has one last person to thank, but little does he know that a well meaning social call will turn lives upside down as Harry begins to understand the strange world of his old enemies. Family, legal, drama.**

* * *

NARCISSA

Narcissa Malfoy sat in the waiting room; her eyes were downcast as she read a pamphlet that was laid out on the side table. Is your Teen a Troll? – Group Workshop for Frustrated Parents with Unruly Teenagers.

The frazzled witch lining up at the reception desk had finished arguing about her potion prescription and had finally left the queue. The receptionist looked over to Narcissa and nodded with a sigh.

"How can I help you?" she asked as she sorted through her piles of parchment, not bothering to look up at Narcissa.

"Hello…yes I'd like to book an appointment."

"Name?" The witch said dipping her quill into the ink.

"Its not for me, the appointment for my son."

"How old is he?"

"He'll be turning 19 next month."

The receptionist looked up at Narcissa and frowned.

"He's of age. You can't book him an appointment when he's of age."

"But he's still dependant on me…doesn't that count for something?"

"No, it doesn't." She said. Narcissa wondered if she was being over-sensitive but she felt the witch was being particularly impolite. A discomfort shivered through her, usually if she received bad service she would be filled with a righteousness and immediately make a formal complaint. Now she wanted the floor to swallow her up.

"Um…there used to be a healer here…he was an American…Healer Rathbone? Is he still here?" She asked curiously. A familiar face, someone who knew her, might be more sympathetic. Rathbone had helped her family once before.

"Healer Rathbone? Yes, he's the Head of the department." The receptionist deadpanned

"Could I book an appointment with him please, for me…not my son." She explained clearly. The Receptionist, looking annoyed pulled out a large leather bound book and turned the thick parchment pages. "Name?"

"Malfoy." She said softly. She heard a movement behind her, a slight fidgeting of one of the other waiting patients. The receptionist stared at her momentarily too before, she turned back to the book.

"I'm afraid I don't see any availability for Healer Rathbone."

"But…I haven't specified a date." She pursued. The receptionist shrugged.

"He's very in demand! And its summer, so he'll be going away as he always does, he's completely booked up until then."

"Would you at least try?"

"There is simply nothing I can do, Mrs _Malfoy_. My hands are tied." She said enunciating her name very clearly, then smirked and shut the book. Sensing that the commotion was causing a scene that many of the other patients were enjoying, Narcissa nodded with understanding. The receptionist had made it clear she was not welcome there.

"I suppose he's not here at the moment then, either."

"That's right."

"I see." She said "Well…thank you for your help."

Narcissa left the waiting room, trying to keep her head high as she passed the patients who continued to stare, some with interest, others with dislike. She stepped into the hallway and away from view before dropping her head into her hands. She was shaking all over, and tears bit at her eyes but refused to fall. Suddenly she felt as if her whole body had turned to lead, cold, hard lead. She struggled for breath, and held onto the wall for support. Get a hold of yourself.

"Are you alright, dear?" An administrator said, as she passed her in the hallway.

"Y-yes…thank you…." She said wiping her eyes. "Just a little headache."

The administrator smiled, clearly she didn't recognise her, but went on her way as swiftly as she appeared. With a deep breath Narcissa walked forward, one hand still lightly touching the wall as went. She passed heavy wooden doors, the same wood as the rest of the hallway; each with a brass doorknob and a little plaque with each Healer's name. She read each one, until she came to the door at the end of the hallway.

Healer Javor Rathbone

Head of Department

Adult Clinic

With a sigh of hopelessness she knocked on his door. There was a moment of silence, during which Narcissa readied to turn and leave when the door suddenly opened. A tall, thin man stood wearing smart, non-uniformed robes. He had a high forehead, emphasised by his receding hair line, his hair was thin and black and waxed backwards off of his face. His features were heavy and his skin an olive brown.

"Yes?" He said impatiently. Uncharacteristically she struggled with her words for a moment.

"I…Healer Rathbone…its good to see you again, it's been so long."

Rathbone smiled, but his eye brows were deeply furrowed.

"Narcissa?" He asked rhetorically. "Merlin, this is a surprise."

"Yes I was just passing and I saw your name..."

"When my door is shut it usually means I'm with a patient." He explained.

"I know that but…I'm sorry I shouldn't have disturbed you." She said stepping away.

"As it so happens I'm not with a patient." He said brightly and signalled for her to come inside. The office was large, quite dimly lip but with a soothing comfortable atmosphere. "It's been many years Narcissa, but I don't think this is a social call is it?" He said leading her to a seat. "What was it? Milk and one sugar?"

"Hmm? Oh…just milk please." She said noticing him busying with a tea set.

"Why you Brits take milk in their tea I still don't get."

"Even after all these years?" She laughed gently, but it came out as a sob. Rathbone glanced at her with surprise, he finished his spell and the tea appeared at the little coffee table in the room. Rathbone sat down in the arm chair opposite her.

"Well then, what can I do for you?"

"It's not a social visit," she admitted. "I tried to book an appointment but they couldn't fit me in…or they didn't want to, I don't know…I thought I might speak to you directly."

"I see." He said looking in the direction of the shut door. "I'll have a word with the receptionist of course. She won't get away with this."

Narcissa reached out a hand.

"No…please don't. I don't want a scene…please." She begged. Rathbone looked at her curiously.

"How's your son?" He asked. She laughed coldly.

"You know all about us from the papers I'm sure." She said fiddling with the skirt of her robes.

"I didn't ask about what's in the paper, I asked how your son is."

"He's fine…" She smiled. "He's absolutely fine. He's studying, for his final year. He's not at Hogwarts, of course. He's at a private French academy….I wanted something in Britain, so naturally he contradicted me." She shrugged jovially. "And your wife, how is she?"

Rathbone hesitated for a moment

"We're separated, but she's well, thank you." He explained gently. "That's good your son's well. I think he was only seven or eight, the last time I saw you. So tell me, what's brought you here _today_?"

"Me? Oh I'm perfectly well…there's nothing wrong with me, but it's Draco I'm worried about."

"You just said he's fine."

"Did I? Oh…yes…sorry my thoughts are all a bit…I'm sorry…" She touched her forehead, and closed her eyes tightly. They remained like that, in silence, for long slow passing minutes, before Narcissa looked up and saw Rathbone's black eyes continuing to stare at her with concern.

"How long have you been like this?"

She shook her head.

"Oh I'm not always like this. I'm together most of the time, its just now and then that I can't get my thoughts straight. I am worried about Draco." She said slowly. "He's become so introverted…so shut off. I'm worried about him, and for so long I haven't been able to reach him…he's blocked me out, completely."

Rathbone signalled for her to drink some tea before he leaned back in his chair, with his arms folded and considered her words.

"I know he's been through quite a bit over the last few years, it's not uncommon for there to be some lasting trauma…not that I should really be saying this to you, but as he's not really my patient…"

"So, would you take him on?"

"I'm sorry, Narcissa, Draco's what…19? 20?

"18."

"Either way I simply can't take him on by your request, he's over age, He has to come to me himself."

"But for a friend, Javor?"

"No, Narcissa."

"You helped my family before, did Aunt Walburga come to you? No it was my Uncle Orion who did on her behalf."

"It was a different time. We can't do that anymore. Tell me, is Draco a threat to others?"

"No of course not!"

"Then to himself?"

"No…well…I hope not."

"Then there is nothing, I can do. Unless he comes to me to book an appointment of his own accord I cannot take your son on as a patient." He shook his head. "I know you've good intentions. I can only recommend you persuade him to book an appointment himself."

"He wouldn't listen to me."

"I never said it would be easy. But as you're here, may we speak about how you are for a moment? How do you feel about your son?"

"There's nothing to discuss about me. I love Draco as much as I ever did, I'm not the issue." She said affronted.

"Do you think he doesn't love you?"

Narcissa opened her mouth to retort when the words became stuck again. Her inability to answer suddenly upset her.

"I'm not sure…" She felt her jaw shaking as she spoke, and put her hands to her face. "He did…during the war….and before it. Now he can barely look at me. That's why I think he wanted to go away to France. He knew how I wanted to keep him near." Javor said nothing, but continued to watch her with interest. "Last week, I went to the Ministry to collect him. He was using an international portkey…you know how exhausting they are, so I went to see him home. For weeks I received no owls, except one brief one telling me he would be home that day. When he arrived at the ministry, I was so happy to see him again, I suddenly realised how much I missed him. I'm not one to make a scene but I reached for him, just to kiss his cheek-…he was like ice…he was like stone. I almost expected him to push me away but that would have been something. He looked at me as though I was little more than a stranger. Maybe he was feeling ill from the travelling, I thought, so I didn't pursue the matter, but when we arrived home he went straight to his chambers and locked the door behind him. He tried to take his meals in there….I had to put my foot down, just so I could have a glimpse of him a few times a day. He says nothing, he barely looks at me…oh Merlin…." She stuttered as tears rolled over her eyelids then reached into her handbag for her handkerchief.

"How does it make you feel?" He asked. Narcissa looked up at the Healer over the handkerchief.

"W-what?"

"How does it-"

"How could you ask me that? My own son doesn't want to speak to me, how do you think I feel?"

"You tell me, Narcissa. I might be an expert on the psychological, but I'm not a seer. You tell me how you feel about it."

"I feel as though I've made a terrible mistake of course! I have done everything to help him, and somewhere, I chose wrong! His father's in prison, perhaps he blames me for that? I don't know. I just feel so alone, all the time. Lucius is gone; Draco might as well be gone; the rest of my family is dead! The whole world has shunned me. I don't blame them for it, but it doesn't make it any easier." She was now sobbing as she spoke each word, but Javor only cocked his head to one side and nodded.

"Being alone isn't easy, Narcissa." He said as she sniffed loudly.

"A few weeks before Draco arrived home, Harry Potter paid me a visit…" She laughed darkly as she recalled it. "He wanted to see me on some, Ministry detail or something, he sat with me and asked me questions, then accused me and argued with me. I asked him to leave, but really, I think I wanted him to stay. I wanted this boy, who has been the very depiction of my enemy, for so many years to sit in my house and talk to me! I even resent myself for not being more welcoming now. It was so pleasant. This enemy of mine said more to me in that afternoon, than my son has said to me in months. As he walked out the door, I wanted to run after him and beg his forgiveness, if it meant he would have stayed a few more minutes. Then I felt stupid and hideously pathetic."

There was a sudden knock at the door.

"Yes?" Javor said. The receptionist opened it and looked in at Narcissa with surprise.

"Healer Rathbone, sorry to disturb you, your two o'clock patient is ready." She said sternly. Javor nodded.

"I'll come and get him in a moment. Shut the door will you?"

The receptionist nodded.

"We should continue this." He said briefly.

"Continue what? Is this a friendly catch up or a session?"

"Well, don't friends help each other out?" He smiled as he quill began writing something out on a piece of parchment on its own accord. "I used to do house calls for your family. I'll send you an owl, and we'll arrange a time."

"Oh no…no it's not necessary." She begged. Javor looked pensive for a moment.

"Very well, I haven't seen the Manor in years, I attended one of you grand banquets once upon a time, lets repeat history, invite me to lunch some day. How does that sound?"

"That sounds very fair.

"Good girl." He said leading her from the room. "I look forward to hearing from you then."

"Yes, thank you Javor. Thank you."

* * *

 _ **AN: Thanks for reading.**_


	4. Chapter 4: HARRY

**Following the war and the trials that came after, the survivors have finally begun to move on. Harry, a trainee auror, knows he has one last person to thank, but little does he know that a well meaning social call will turn lives upside down as Harry begins to understand the strange world of his old enemies. Family, legal, drama.**

* * *

 **HARRY**

It was almost like the best of the old days, Harry thought to himself. Hermione and Ginny had returned from Hogwarts and they were sitting together, with Ron, in Grimmauld Place drinking butterbeer late into the night. Ron had thrown his arm casually around Hermione's shoulders and looked particularly proud of himself, but shifted uncomfortably if Harry became too comfortable with Ginny.

"I really don't understand why you're so surprised Harry, about Mrs Malfoy, or Sirius and Mrs Tonks." Hermione shook her head.

"Hermione's right, mate. Do you really think Mrs Malfoy would've saved you if she knew her git of a son was going to be alright?"

"No…but I thought since it all changed she might of realised she was wrong."

"It doesn't work like that, Harry."

"Why not? Look if what Mrs Tonks said is true and she and Sirius hated muggleborns too, then it's proven that they can change." Harry said, looking to Ginny for support, she only shrugged hopelessly.

"Personally I think its wishful thinking if you expect the Malfoys to change their spots."

"Its weird isn't it…" Ron said, softly, "to imagine Sirius being like that…you know…insulting muggleborns and stuff. He always hated his family's views. He said he always hated them."

"I don't think it's weird at all." Hermione said "Why would Sirius, or Mrs Tonks for that matter, be any different than Draco Malfoy, let's say? After all they are all spoiled, children of wealthy pureblood supremacists they wouldn't all be born instantly turning their backs on their parents' opinions, without knowing a thing about the world. Experiences changed Sirius and Mrs Tonks…they made the right choices. Draco Malfoy didn't."

"To be fair, as much as Malfoy is a git, I don't think we can say he had much of a choice." Ron said diplomatically. Hermione, taken aback my Ron's defence of Malfoy, shook her head.

"No of course not. That's not what I meant."

"If what you say is right, Hermione, then technically Mrs Malfoy should be Harry's biggest supporter. After all, she had enough experiences with Death Eaters to know she'd made a big mistake in supporting them, right?" Ginny interpreted. Hermione coked her head to the side and shook her head lightly.

"Mm…no I don't think so. She might not support Voldemort anymore, but that doesn't mean she'd be the next volunteer for the Muggle liason office. If anything, she probably feels more alone than ever."

Ginny groaned suddenly.

"I honestly don't know why you lot are still talking about all this. Its over! You don't need to think about the Malfoys ever again." She argued.

"Harry's always had a bit of an obsession with Malfoy." Ron jibed ignoring Harry's expression.

"No I don't!"

"Well you do." Hermione agreed. "You've got to admit it."

"I don't and no I don't need to admit anything. It's not true. I don't have an obsession with Malfoy."

"You do sort of…a bit." Ron continued and began counting on his fingers. "…stalking him around the castle, saving him heroically on a broomstick…having a wand fight in the boy toilets!"

"Oi!"

Ginny was shrieking with laughter and Hermione rolled her eyes but sniggered despite herself.

"In all seriousness though, I do think re-education is the way forward." She said, still smiling. "These pureblood supremacists do need a change on opinion. I was thinking about writing a letter to the Daily Prophet about it….or we could take the idea straight to Kingsley Shacklebolt." She offered, with great enthusiasm.

"On that note." Ginny announced. "I'm off to bed…you coming, Harry?"

Ron made a spluttering noise, akin to someone drowning.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you**


	5. Chapter 5: NARCISSA

**Following the war and the trials that came after, the survivors have finally begun to move on. Harry, a trainee auror, knows he has one last person to thank, but little does he know that a well meaning social call will turn lives upside down as Harry begins to understand the strange world of his old enemies. Family, legal, drama.**

* * *

 **NARCISSA**

Lucius was brought into the visitor's hall by an auror and sent over to the table where Narcissa was waiting. Although she had not been allowed to visit Lucius during his previous conviction, nor did he speak much about the year he spent in Azkaban before, Narcissa had seen the state he had been in when he escaped and knew the first time she visited that this time things were better since the Azkaban prison forms. Although the prison was still located far in the North Sea, and the fortress was cold and derelict, it was clear that much work had gone into improving the conditions. There had been work done on the draughts and the heating in both the halls and the cells, or so Narcissa had read in the Prophet. There was the obvious absence of the dementors which had clearly changed much of the prison's reputation. Thus Lucius looked pale and subdued, but he was clean and relatively healthy looking. His prison robes were spotless and his hair was trimmed shorter and swept off his face. He looked pleased to see her, she noted gladly.

"Hello darling." She said as he sat before her.

"Narcissa." He nodded

"How are you today?" She asked as pleasantly as possible.

"I'm in prison, the appeal could not come sooner. Is Draco not with you? I thought he would have finished his education now."

He has." She expained vaguely. "I am still working on the appeal you know. We had a raid last week and they didn't find anything, so I think that will look good in your case."

"Where is he then?"

"Who?"

"Draco, Narcissa."

"Oh…well, you know, he's back from school…he's busy seeing friends. I want him to get on with his life so I didn't badger him about it…you don't mind do you?"

Lucius looked away for a moment, glancing at his fellow inmates with their wives and some with their children. He was disappointed. She had let him down but she did not dare admit to him that Draco had no wish to visit his Father. That would hurt him too much.

"So…the appeal?" He asked sharply.

"Oh…yes, well they were talking about next month, but I do think it was just talking. I think the best we can hope for is September, that will give me enough time to …um…" She put her hand to her head.

"What's wrong…what's the matter?" He said with a frown.

"Nothing, I've…just lot my train of thought again. Oh yes…I think September will be fine."

"For what, Narcissa?"

"To receive the witness statements." She said surely, and smiled nervously

"Narcissa, if you're not well, you needn't have visited. I would fair better without the unnecessary disruption of my research for the case" He had that cold look in his eyes, the one she disliked. He had that face when he was annoyed with her. He had not looked at her like that for some time, it reminded of her of being young and stupid, that was how he made her feel in those days.

"I'm very well, Lucius. Please don't be cross with me. Look…I brought you some books…well not with me, I gave them to the front desk to check first. They'll bring them to your um…cell, later."

"Your intentions are sweet, but there are more important things for you to be doing back at the Manor, if you haven't brought me any useful news. You really ought to have brought our son with you. It will be in his hands now to continue running things. How can I teach him if he doesn't visit?"

She lowered her voice to a mere whisper.

"I'm sorry Lucius, but please don't be harsh on him…he's…"

"He's what?"

"He's…well he a lot on his mind. I'm sure now he's home things will settle down. Oh…I forgot to mention…Do you remember Javor Rathbone?" She blurted out. Lucius looked unsure for a moment,

"That American healer? The one with the mud…muggleborn wife?" He asked glancing at his guards. Narcissa nodded. "I remember you insisted on inviting the both of them to our Christmas party for a good many years."

"He was good to my family." She said, indifferently. "And I couldn't very well leave his wife out of the invitation, could I?

"Anyway, what of him?"

"Oh…I just bumped into him in Diagon Alley, I thought I'd pass on his regards. He's separated from his wife now, you know." She said, as if to soothe the situation.

"I see…are you implying that our son needs to see this Healer?"

"No…I told you it was a chance meeting."

"You are a terrible liar, Narcissa." He continued, icily. Inwardly, Narcissa bristled, he was wrong, she was a very good liar, but that is not the sort of thing a good liar admits. However, Lucius had caught her out this time. "Even if it were a chance meeting, the thought must have crossed your mind for Draco to see this quack or you wouldn't have brought him up in this context."

"And so what? Not that Javor Rathbone is a quack, he was a great help to my Aunt Walburga,"

"Yes indeed, a fine job he did with her."

"And he was a help to my own parents after An…after Bellatrix was arrested." She said hastily. "Our son has been through a lot, why should he keep his thoughts to himself? His redemption and his suffering may reflect positively on us, if anyone should get wind of it?" She offered. Lucius looked alarmed.

"I might not be able to physically prevent you from taking Draco to this man, Narcissa, but I hope you come to your senses quickly. You surely, can't wish for people to hear about our son's mental instability?"

"No! No…" she blushed. "No of course not. I didn't think. Not that Draco is mentally unstable…he's just a sensitive boy."

"If he hasn't grown up now, then there is nothing that can be done for him." Lucius muttered bitterly. A shadow fell over his face, as his expression softened. "I will need to rely on him to take care of our finances and the upkeep of the estate. I fear that the appeal will do little to no good. I will be in here for a good deal longer."

Instinctively, Narcissa reached for her husband's hand, but he retracted it, not callously. It was as if he had not seen her move, he was lost in his own thoughts.

"Is there something I can do? I've been taking care of things for a year…its been difficult with some of the court expenses, but we're still above water."

"The name of Malfoy will rise again."

"Of course." She lied, but this time Lucius didn't catch her. The name of Malfoy was gone. It existed only as it was, a name. Never again would their legacy or their name be spoken of in the context of good society. The name would twist and rot like so many great families, just as her own had done. The Malfoy name was rotten to the core.

"I entrust you to bring the severity of the responsibility to our son's attention, keep him away from this Healer. He'll only retreat further into his own personal indulgence if he goes down that route. We are relying on him now."

"Yes, Lucius."

"Good….now please, if you have a quill and parchment, I have some ideas for the appeal…."

* * *

 ** _AN: Thanks for reading._**


	6. Chapter 6: HARRY

**Following the war and the trials that came after, the survivors have finally begun to move on. Harry, a trainee auror, knows he has one last person to thank, but little does he know that a well meaning social call will turn lives upside down as Harry begins to understand the strange world of his old enemies. Family, legal, drama.**

* * *

HARRY

"So, who can tell me what the quickest and most accurate way to identify if this is a) a poison and b) what kind it is?" Barnabus Humphries asked the group of trainee aurors. On the little table in front of him was a rather innocent looking vial of strawberry pink liquid.

"Give it to crookshanks? If he lives no one will know and if he dies, then there's an excuse for a party." Ron muttered to Harry, who snorted with laughter. Humphries gave them a disapproving glare, but Harry could not help but feel this was another useless lesson. Yes identifying potions was important, but in what possible scenario would he secretly have to test and/or drink one without drawing attention to himself.

"Mr Potter and Mr Weasley, I'm going to assume you're laughing because you find this question easy, why don't you-"

But he was interrupted, for at that moment there was a knock on the door, the trainees all turned around to look at the door. "Constant Vigilance! I told you never to look away when a bottle of poison is in the room! Yes who is it?"

A frazzled looking intern peaked her head around the door.

"Um…excuse me…"

"Yes?" Humphries said exasperatedly

"Um…Harry Potter isn't in here, is he?"

Harry raised his hand with confusion.

"Potter don't identify yourself so quickly, I thought you of all people would know that. What do you want with him?"

"I'm supposed to bring him down to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures office. Mr Diggory asked me to bring him down."

"Sick of the Auror office already, are you Potter, looking for a transfer to 'Creatures'?" Humphries said rolling his eyes, but as Harry began to protest, Humphries waved him down. "Go on! If Weasley bothers listening you can get the notes off him."

Harry nodded, gathered his things as quickly as he could and shrugged at Ron's questioning gaze. Stuffing his quills, parchment and ink all in his satchel he followed the intern out of the room.

"I'm glad you were in there, Harry Potter. I thought someone was joshing with me?" She admitted with a nervous sigh, her eyes fixed on his scar rather than his eyes.

"Why?"

"They keep messing with me here. Like the other day, they told me I was being moved to the Centaur Liaison office. But it doesn't exist! Apparently, that's a metaphor for getting the sack!" She said wide eyed.

"Oh right…I'll remember that one."

"Not that anyone will sack you." She shook her head as they rushed in to catch the left before the door's closed. Harry quickly covered his scar with his fringe when the girl was distracted.

"What does Mr Diggory want with me?" Harry asked, he had not seen Amos Diggory since his fourth year, after his son, Cedric, had been murdered.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that Mathalda Hopkirk is there too."

"From Improper Use of Magic?" Harry frowned. The scenario was getting stranger and stranger.

Out of the lift they rushed speedily down the hallway of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and after a quick deliberation continued down a corridor labelled "Beast Division." There was a collection of posters displaying dragons and sphinxes, manticores and basilisks.

Now and then the sounds of squawks and roars could be heard in the distance and there were several wizards and witches walking down the corridors with singed robes and bandaged fingers. Finally they arrived at the office, he read the sign on the door;

Amos Diggory

Head of Beast Division

Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures

"Ah, here we go." The intern said, with a sigh of relief. Without knocking, she twisted the handle of the door. It had opened only fraction, when there was a sudden gasp, a shout of "NO!", a flash of light and the door slammed shut on them immediately.

"Oops." The intern whined. "I'll be for the Centaur Liaison office again…"

They stood by the door as they listened to the sound of rustling for a moment before Amos Diggory appeared at the door. He barely opened it, and poked his head in the gap, dislodging his glasses to one side. He spotted Harry and smiled.

"Quick, get in!" He said enthusiastically, then frowned at the intern.

"I'll deal with you later."

As Mr Diggory edged away from the door. Harry squeezed in the small gap after him.

The room was dimly lit, the windows, were enchanted to present the night sky rather than a sunny day, as the other offices had done. The office was instead lit by candlelight. It was was a large neat office, that appeared strangely cluttered due to the vast amount of objects and filing cabinets in it.

Mathalda Hopkirk sat at one of the chairs beside Amos Diggory's desk she smiled hesitantly at Harry, who was immediately distracted by the odd formation of a man's legs sitting on a chair. His top half completely shrouded by a huge flag of a Romanian Longhorn Dragon.

With the door closed safely behind them. Amos Diggory shook his hand silently and offered him a seat beside Mathalda Hopkirk.

"It's alright now Titus, the door's shut."

The man, who hid beneath the dragon blanket, removed it at once, to reveal his pale, shadowy gaunt face and ginger hair. He was dressed strangely too, his robes seemed rather old fashioned and a little ragged.

"You really should control your staff, Diggory. Letting daylight in indeed." He said pompously, then eyed up Harry."Who is this?"

"Just my good friend, Harry, who will be observing our meeting for training purposes." Diggory said, and rather strangely, patted Harry on the head and ruffled his hair. "Harry, this is Titus Higgins.".

"Good to meet you?" Harry said unsurely. The man ignored him.

"May I continue, Amos?" He asked. "Or is there some other interruption in store for us?"

"Please go on, Titus."

"What I was trying to say is that I feel hopelessly under represented in both the Ministry and my own country. I'm not allowed to establish my own colony, or even just a nest, I'm not allowed to hunt as I see fit, and I'm not allowed to use my wand."

"We've been through this before, Titus, you've been campaigning for 200 years, and I promise you, you are more likely to be able to keep an acromantula as a house pet, than establish a colony. It is just not going to happen."

Harry frowned. The reason for his presence in this meeting was no clearer now than it had been when he was called out of the auror office. Harry didn't even understand the context of the meeting. What was the colony?

"And yet mindless killing machines like werewolves are allowed to carry wands and marry and have children." The man said bitterly.

"Werewolves are not mindless killing machines!" Harry spoke out in defence of his old Professor Lupin. Higgins looked Harry up and down.

"No, apparently not. They just forget who they are and go on a killing spree every full moon. I on the hand, am a Hogwarts, Ravenclaw, who received an Order of Merlin second class for my contribution to research on Antidotes while I was alive and 100% compus mentis every moment of the day, 365 days a year!" His fist crashed against the arm of his chair, cracking it beneath him. "Excuse me." He apologised sheepishly.

"I understand you're angry, Titus, really I do."

"You're a vampire, aren't you?" Harry asked. Titus Higgins narrowed his amber eyes at Harry.

"Who is this fool?" He asked Mr Diggory. Mr Diggory nodded his head towards Harry,as if encouraging the vampire to take a closer look. Suddenly Harry realised why Mr Diggory had ruffled his hair. The Vampire's eyes narrowed at the scar. "Harry Potter? So what? How does this help me?"

"Oh come now, Titus? Aren't you just a little bit impressed?"

"Not particularly, no! Well yes I suppose in a way! But that's hardly here nor there! With all respect to Mr Potter, I've seen many a young hero throughout my long life. And while we're on the subject; that whole business with Lord Voldemort is another pet peeve of mine, I'll have you know! Those Death Eaters tried to get me on their side, were you aware of that? They offered my fellow campaigners and I a good deal if we joined them, INCLUDING wand use! But we refused. We still have our principles. Did we get a mention of loyalty towards the Ministry? Nooo! Did we have even a compliment in the Daily Prophet? No! In the same issue that reported the Dark Lord's defeat, was an advert for safety against British Vampires!"

"You didn't exactly help though, I don't remember any of you fighting on our side." Harry protested.

"No." Titus said pompously. "Why should we have? Besides, all that nonsense with Voldemort passed in a mere blink of an eye. A lot of fuss about nothing."

Amos Diggory let out a small groan and Harry was sure he saw him glancing at a photograph on his desk. Harry guessed it was of Cedric. "Excuse me, Amos. I know it's a sore subject. But I agree with the goblins on this one. It was a wizards' war, and if I'm not considered a wizard, I had no place in it."

Mathalda Hopkirk cleared her throat to catch their attention.

"Can we please get back to the issue at hand. Titus, the fact remains that you were not supposed to be using a wand and yet you have been called into the Improper Use of Magic office."

The vampired sneered, revealing his fangs for the first time.

"Yes, Ms Hopkirk, indeed I was. Then I was referred to the Department for Magical Creatures office and shunted between beast and being divisions as I always am! So here I am not quite goblin and not quite flobberworm."

"I know there has been some debate in the past as to what division you fit into, you're officially regarded as a "Being"…but here you are in 'Beasts.' You've always maintained a good relationship with Amos so here he is, and here I am. We've done our best to cooperate with you. Now tell me… from whose wand was it that you cast "Scarpin's Revelaspell," otherwise known as specialus revelio?"

The vampire crossed his arms and looked away.

"Titus, we won't banish you for the sake of a spell like that. But we need to know. Did you steal the wand…or did the holder give you permission to take it?"

"I borrowed it." He snapped. "From a human friend of mine, who now has it safely back in their possession. No harm done, and don't go looking to blame them, for I will take the secret to your graves!" The three of them stared at him for a moment with reproach. "Sorry, its a popular saying among immortals…that's all."

"What did you want the spell for?"

"My research. I had to find the hidden information in a rare book that had recently got hold of."

"And why were you performing your research in front of a muggle?"

"Because she's my fiancé."

"Titus, you can't get married." Amos explained. "You know that."

"No, but is there a law against having a fiancé?" he deadpanned.

"A muggle fiancé? Whom you needed to perform a revelio spell in front of?" Amos asked.

"She's a vampire! Who cares? The statute of secrecy doesn't exist for her."

"Yes it does, Titus."

"Well what on earth for? Was there ever a more stupid rule ever written? Potter what do you think? You're a young boy full of revolutionary ideas, untainted by the quill pushers of the Ministry."

"Um…To be honest, I don't know much about Vampires…I missed my Seventh Year of Hogwarts. I know about vampire bats?" He offered.

Titus Higgins's nostrils flared in fury.

"Well then…I'm going to ignore that last comment. I've been compared to a beast far too many a times in my life. Let me explain something. May I Amos? Ms Hopkirk? Very well. Listen here, Harry Potter. I am Titus Jermiah Richard Higgins, a vampire, of 232 years of age, and of sound mind and body. I am a proud, half-blood wizard, and I actually completed my seventh year of Hogwarts with all O's in my N.E.W.T.s (which were far more trying in my day I assure you.)" He added snidely. "Despite all this, I am deemed a part-human, neither beast nor being, nor wizard, nor muggle. I was bitten by a vampire, when I was twenty-four years old. Admittedly, against my will, while I was performing my research in, what was in those days, a very dangerous territory of Hungary, and the vampires there were not as civilised as I am now. Follow so far? Good. I returned my home, England as a devoted British citizen, only to find, that the bite, against my will, remember, forced me to be stripped of all my rights!"

"Just like a werewolf." Harry argued.

"Far more so! However, you already know my thoughts on that one, Mr Potter. Anyway, despite this melancholy turn of events, I realised that I was not alone and joined the rather small British community of vampires; a very well behaved little community indeed, who chose to live as lawful as life as possible, rather than gallivanting off to Eastern Europe to behave like a bunch of savages. Now, you may or may not realise this, Mr Potter, but vampirism is not limited to magical members of the community (although this judgmental, elitist system known as the Ministry of Magic chooses to forget this). So although we wizarding vampires suffer, the muggle vampires have even less representation than us. You refuse to give them even the slightest bit of help because it is, apparently, a breach of the Statute of Secrecy."

"Muggle vampire rights has become a bit of a project for Titus." Amos explained.

"Don't you dare be so condescending, Amos! My Father was a muggle, God rest his soul!" Titus explained "Forgive me if I honour his memory. When I was human, I saw muggle rights as important as wizard rights and now that I'm a vampire I see no difference between muggle and wizarding vampires!"

Harry looked from Mr Diggory and Mathalda Hopkirk, they were watching him.

"Sorry…I do see his point." Harry said, Diggory looked exasperated at Mathalda, who sighed.

"Muggles cannot know about our world, unless they have a muggle born child, and even then it must be limited only to the parents involved, not even the extended family can know a thing about the child's magical abilities. Even the child must be mindful of the things they tell and certainly what magic they perform in front of their parents, if any at all. Vampire muggles are not defined from any other muggle." Mathalda said seriously. "And a muggle who can live…well, forever, knowing about our world….that could be a very dangerous thing indeed."

"Mathalda, for Merlin's sake, my dearest Polly is hardly going to announce to the whole muggle world that she's a vampire and her fiancé is a 232 year old wizard vampire, is she? She is as secretive as the rest of us. There is no reason she can't know about magic, and no reason at all why I can't perform it! It seems strange that she should still be considered a muggle but I am no longer considered a wizard."

"I'm sorry Titus, the law remains as it is." Mathalda said finally.

"So I get a fine and a slap on the wrists…not even the right to have a trial, hmm? Is that the law of the Being division or the Beast division?"

"It's both. It's a minor infringement, but it is still an infringement." Diggory shook his head.

"You can't even alter Polly's memory, she's a vampire, so there's nothing you can really do about it." Titus sighed, and put his pale hands over his face, running his long white nails through the routes of his hair. Diggory stood up and patted the vampire on the shoulder.

"There there, old boy. If it's any consolation I'm sure I can put a good word for you in with Melrose in Being division, for another appeal and another protest."

"Ugh, leave Melrose out of it, the poor man's a pathetic mess. What's got my interest is why Harry Potter is here."

"We thought you might be interested to meet him, Harry's a firm supporter of the Ministry, aren't you, Harry?"

"Uh…"

"Today's youth is so inarticulate." The vampire lamented. "So you're training to be an auror are you, boy?"

"Yes." Said Harry

"I thought as much."

Amos Diggory smiled,

"Well, its rather a right of passage for Harry, isn't it? But you know, once you're in the ministry, its good to keep your eyes open at all the departments. Did you know that when I started I was in Accidents and Catastrophes?"

Titus rolled his eyes.

"Am I stuck here until sundown, Amos, must I endure anymore of your autobiography?"

Arranging for Titus to leave was quite a performance. Apparently the Magical Creatures Department had a drill dedicated to the removal of vampires during daylight hours. It involved sending a memo down to Maintenance and having them dim the light in a series of connected corridors from the enchanted daylight to night (as the magical sun was as potent to them as the real thing). The vampire was then finally escorted down the fireplaces in the atrium to floo away out of the Ministry and out of their responsibility. As soon as the memo returned confirming Titus was safely away, Mr Diggory visibly relaxed.

"That's all sorted then, is it Mathalda?"

"I think so. With all Titus' protests he's always paid his fines and his dues in the past. Until next time then?"

"Inevitably," He sighed. Mathalda smiled weakly.

"Good to see you again, Mr Potter." She added before leaving. Harry remained behind, sitting awkwardly beside Amos Diggory.

"Um, Mr Diggory…why did you bring me down here, was I supposed to say something to Titus Higgins?"

"What? Oh…well, Titus has always been one to take advice from influential people, I thought if you stood up for the Ministry it might make him see sense. However, I had been thinking to invite you down for you to see the department, to see what we do down here, to see if you liked it?"

Harry frowned.

"I'm in training to be an auror though…I can't just move department."

"Nonsense, Harry." Diggory said jovially. "Getting into the ministry is the hard part, after that its hard to get rid of you…not that anyone is trying to, but I mean once you're in you can move around wherever you like very easily."

"But-"

"Don't worry about it, I only mean that every department would love for you to join them! After all…you're the one who did so much. So if you were ever unhappy with your current placement…or if things weren't going so well perhaps, you would always have a place. You and I have a personal history too…you avenged my son. You did far more than I ever did for him." He added sadly.

"Thanks…but honestly it was much more of…well you know…something I just had to do." Harry said, dreading the moment that Diggory would bring up Cedric.

"I had always imagined Cedric coming into the department…I think he fancied himself a Quidditch player more than anything…but I thought once that was over that he might…well…" he smiled. "No use thinking about the past. The future awaits." He sniffed. "I suppose you'd like to head back now…off you go Mr Potter. Best of luck!"

* * *

 _ **AN: Thanks for the reviews guys. I will be replying to your comments soon but I would like the story to develop a little first.**_


	7. Chapter 7: HARRY (cont)

Following the war and the trials that came after, the survivors have finally begun to move on. Harry, a trainee auror, knows he has one last person to thank, but little does he know that a well meaning social call will turn lives upside down as Harry begins to understand the strange world of his old enemies. Family, legal, drama.

* * *

 **HARRY _(cont.)_**

"That's weird…why would old Diggory want you to give up being an auror. Surely after 'avenging his son' he would say he was glad you were becoming an dark wizard catcher." Ron said, after Harry explained to him and Hermione what had occurred. They were walking down the high street of a muggle town on the outskirts of Hastings on their way to visit Mrs Tonks and Teddy as Hermione was yet to see the baby since returning from Hogwarts. Harry shrugged, he looked to Hermione for an answer but she only marched on with a frown on her face. Harry glanced at Ron for an explanation.

"She's pondering the mistreatment of Vampires, probably." He muttered.

"And so what if I am, Ron! From what Harry says, he brought up a lot of very valid points."

"Hermione, house elves are one thing, but vampires…they are literally evil…they are made of evil." She rolled her eyes. "No, Hermione, seriously, I'm not backing down on this one!"

"How can you say that, we're are about to visit the son of a werewolf and our own dear friend. You said the same about werewolves once too. Don't you ever learn?"

"No, vampires are different!"

"How so?"

"They just are. They suck blood…every day, not just at the fullmoon…all the time."

"I've long been thinking about joining the Regulation for Magical Creatures. There's so much to be done there. I think I would really make a difference. McGonagall wants me to go into Law Enforcement, though."

"Well apparently its easy to move around once you're in." Harry said bitterly. "Not that you'll have a problem getting a job with your results."

"Oh shush, don't jinx it. I'm terrified about what results I'll get in my N.E. , I know I messed up transfiguration, my birds were slightly purple, I'm sure you could tell they were once thistles!"

"Yeah…I'm sure." Ron nodded.

Upon arriving at the house, Mrs Tonks answered the door.

"Ah, all three of you." She said stiffly as usual, almost as if she were annoyed by their presence, "Do come in, I'm about to put some more tea on."

Ron raised his eyebrows when her back was turned and followed her into the house.

Harry then understood why she might have been annoyed, she already had company. She already had company. In the living room, a very elderly woman sat with baby Teddy on her knee. She was a squat old woman, with thin blue rinse hair and by the way she was dressed, Harry guessed she was a muggle. She laughed merrily to herself as Teddy's hair turned purple.

"Oh…hello." The old woman said looking at the trio, then to Andromeda.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, this is my mother-in-law, Phyllis. Phyllis, this is Hermione and Ron and Harry Potter," she announced loudly, indicating the old woman was slightly deaf.

"Oh…I've heard of you, Harry Potter." The old lady smiled making her already wrinkled face crinkle even more.

"They've come to visit, Teddy."

"Oh, my dear. Shall I go? I didn't know you were expecting company." She said with a shaky voice.

"No, please stay. I'm putting more tea on now."

"Sit down, deary, I'll make it. As if you don't have enough to do. Here take Teddy?" The old woman offered Teddy to Hermione, who took hold of him gladly and eased herself out of the armchair with her walking stick.

"No…Phyllis…we don't have electricity, remember."

"Who needs electricity? I managed on a three day week back in the 70s and constant power cuts back in the war, sit down." She laughed. Andromeda let her pass before inviting them to all sit down on the additional chairs.

"That's nice that your mother-in-law visits you, Mrs Tonks." Ron said in attempt to make polite conversation while Hermione played with Teddy.

"My parents-in-law were always very kind. They tried the best they could with an outsider, it hasn't been easy."

"I know." Hermione said. "My parents are muggles too."

Mrs Tonks looked at Hermione and nodded in understanding

"How did you explain the war?"

An uncomfortable, solemn silence fell over Hermione, that Harry was not used to.

"I didn't. I altered their memories so that I never existed, then sent them to Australia for safety. I went to find them as soon as it was over, and they remember me now…but there are blank spaces…things that I didn't think they would forget, and they shouldn't have under any other circumstance."

"That must be very difficult for you."

"Mm…" Hermione nodded, Ron put his arm around her. "But how could I explain to them they had to leave me, because they'd be in danger with no way to defend themselves?"

"I understand. I also thought Phyllis might have blamed me for Ted and Nymphadora's death, it was my world, my sister…" She said with a look of repulsion. "If she ever did, she never showed it to me. She's been there when others were not. So you have graduated from Hogwarts now have you, Hermione?"

"Yes."

"And will you go to the auror office too?"

"Ow," she yelped as Teddy yanked a strand of her hair. "Um…no I don't think so." She put Teddy on the floor where he was trying to reach for a toy.

"Hermione wants to go to the Department of Magical Creatures to fend for House Elves." Ron said with mock encouragement, Hermione scowled.

Mrs Tonks frowned

"What on Earth for?"

Before Hermione could explain her reasons Phyllis entered the room with the tea, shaking as she walked. Mrs Tonks took it off her and handed out the tea in muggle fashion.

"Now…what were you all talking about?" Phyllis asked loudly.

"Hermione here, was just talking about what job she wanted to go into for work. She wants to work at the ministry of magic…like Ted and Nymphadora did."

Phyllis nodded with in.

"In the Aura department, was it? And Ted was in what was it? Animas?"

"Animagus registration." Mrs Tonks explained. "So why the interest in House Elves, Hermione?"

Ron groaned.

"Oh don't get her started."

"I think House Elves are very mistreated and wizards have allowed them to mistake their acceptance for enslavement with happiness and job satisfaction. Slavery is abhorred for all other creatures except House Elves."

"What's a house elf again?" Phyllis asked.

"Wizards keep them to take care of the house work. They are servants paid with bed and board." Mrs Tonks shrugged.

"No, they are slaves, and treating them better will benefit everyone." Hermione continued. "Since Kreacher's been treated kindly, he's become kinder and more trustworthy, isn't that right, Harry?"

"Well yes…" Harry agreed. Mrs Tonks frowned.

"Kreacher…" She said with interest. "Aunt Walburga's Kreacher?"

"Who the bloody hell is called Creature?" Phyllis laughed, but Mrs Tonks did not respond to her mother-in-law she was thinking very deeply.

"Then you…you're living at Grimmauld Place aren't you?"

Harry explained that he did. "And I will assume that you inherited the house from Sirius."

"When I was sixteen."

"After he died, Nymphadora told me he had inherited it. Although how, having been disowned he came by that, I still don't understand." Mrs Tonks turned to her mother-in-law again. "My Aunt Walburga, on my father's side married into another branch of the family who owned our town house in London. They had two sons, one died back in the late 70s and the other was disowned like me. The one that was disowned was Harry here's godfather and somehow, despite everything, he inherited the property and left it to Harry, here when he passed away three years ago."

"Oh…" The old woman said trying to make sense of it all.

"With it came a house elf I once knew…called Kreacher." She said wistfully, then shook her head. "So…sorry what were you saying?"

"The Department for Magical Creatures." Hermione added, with a little less courtesy in her voice, than she had previously.

"Ah of course. House Elves…well they are perfectly fine the way they are. I often applied to the Office of House Elf Relocation, but there's a long waiting list and very few house elves looking for new work. Larger houses always move up the list quicker." She sighed. "Tell me, is Amos Diggory still working in the Beast Division?" She asked with a slight sneer.

Harry nodded.

"Yes, I saw him today actually, he was having problems with a vampire."

"What a slug of a man, he was in my year at school. Did a vampire bite him? One can hope." She shrugged at Harry's surprised expression. He was reminded again why he felt unable to warm to Andromeda Tonks. Despite everything, she reminded Harry very much of the Slytherins at school. Harry reckoned Ron and Hermione felt much the same as it fell on Phyllis to take the conversation back to a light hearted chat.

* * *

 ** _AN: Thanks._**


	8. Chapter 8: NARCISSA

Following the war and the trials that came after, the survivors have finally begun to move on. Harry, a trainee auror, knows he has one last person to thank, but little does he know that a well meaning social call will turn

* * *

 **NARCISSA**

Narcissa could not sleep. She tossed and turned in the bed, spreading limbs over to the cool side of the bed and turning back when that too became warm and uncomfortable. Her eyes were weary but her thoughts were full. She had been reading through volumes of law records for Lucius so long that her head was buzzing. Draco had barely spoken a word to her at dinner, he had requested to eat his meals in his room, but she forbid the house elf to serve his food anywhere but the dining. Draco had barely touched his food and ignored all her attempts to make conversation.

She thought idyllically of inviting Javor to Sunday lunch and letting Draco open up to him, and have him solve everything for her. Somewhere in the darkness she heard a murmur, in the hallways, the portraits were gossiping amongst themselves.

"What is it?" She asked lazily in the darkness.

"I'm not sure, I shall go and find out." the portrait of Magdalena Malfoy answered. Narcissa waited, turning over again hoping she might find a comfortable position to fall asleep.

However, her bedroom door burst open and the unmistakeable sounds of a house elf's sobs filled the room.

"Mistress! You is needing to get up now!" But Narcissa was already sitting up and her raised her wand to the lamp beside her. The house elf was reaching for her with eyes wide and full of tears; her pillow case tunic covered in blood. "It is master Draco! Please Mistress! Illy is not understanding!" she sobbed. Narcissa grabbed her dressing gown and barely managed to drag it over her shoulders as she rushed through the corridors in the direction of Draco's room.

"No mistress! He's in the cellar."

"The cellar?" Narcissa gasped, she apparated downstairs, to the top of the cellar with Illy following close behind her. The enchantment that blocked people from entering the cellar had already been broken by Draco and he had not recast it. She opened the cellar door and looked down into the depths where a ungenerous light cast over the stone floor revealing nothing further into the room. She rushed down the steps.

"Draco!" She called out. She saw him at once, hunched on the floor, his wand arm shaking while his left arm bled profusely. "What have you done, you idiot!" She said rushing to him, his eyes bore into her, huge but empty while his body seemed to convulse. She looked at his arm, it was bleeding continuously, with more blood than seemed possible even if he'd cut an artery. For his arm looked like it had been cut into, directly onto the tattoo etched in his forearm.

She cast several healing spells she knew, but all attempts she made to close the wounds seemed to open again.

"What have you used?!" She shrieked, but Draco could not answer, his head lolled to one side and his eyes lost focus. She shook him.

"No! Draco I can't apparate out of this room…come on!" She pulled his good arm over her shoulder and hoisted him with difficult. Draco used the little strength he had to walk up the stairs beside her, splattering blood up the stone staircase.

No sooner had they reached the top, she took a deep breath and disapparated from the Manor to St Mungo's.

They arrived in the main entrance. During the travel, Draco weakened, and upon apparition Narcissa almost fell forwards under his weight. Waiting Mediwitches rushed forwards to help, levitating Draco onto a trolley.

"What's happened?" One asked

"Spell damage." Was all Narcissa could think, remembering the floor she needed. The other visitors looked over in alarm at the scene, and Narcissa realised that her white night gown was seeped in her son's blood. The mediwitches examined Draco's arm, and exchanged glances on noticing the tattoo, but made no comment.

"What spell did he use?"

"I don't know, I found him like that."

"Right, let's take him straight up. What's his name?"

"Draco."

"Draco stay awake, we're taking you to a Healer now. You're bleeding! We're going to use bandages to temporarily stop the bleeding. If you can hear me move you're fingers. Let's go, he's not responding!"

The mediwitches transported him to spell damage using their emergency elevators, Narcissa followed close behind as fast she could in her slippers.

She waited patiently in the waiting room. A mediwitch had given her hospital robe to go over her stained night clothes, it was kind of her, but Narcissa did not care, her heart was racing almost as quickly as her mind. What had Draco been doing? Casting spells on his arm, on the tattoo. To remove it? Could he be so foolish. What spell had he used that she could not heal, no usual one surely, that would be easy to heal. After what felt like hour, a curly haired Healer approached her.

"Mrs Malfoy?"

"Is he alright?"

"My name is Healer Aziz," he smiled "Your son will be fine, I believe. We have managed to stop the bleeding, but as I was unable to diagnose which spell he used I have to keep him under observation should the bleeding start again, as it might."

With a deep sigh, Narcissa closed her eyes and put her hands to her face for a moment.

"Thank you." She said softly. "I'm afraid I don't know which spell he used…I found him that way."

"You were right to bring him straight in. When he wakes up we'll be able to ask him. But you can go in and see him if you wish, but please alert someone if he wakes up. I have given him a dose of Dreamless Sleep, that ought to do him some good."

Narcissa could not place her thoughts as she looked at her son lying motionless and colourless on the hospital bed. His arm was heavily bandaged and the set with a purple paste that had hardened on the folds. She took his good hand in her own, she kissed it and pressed it to her cheek. It was cold and firm, a man's hand, unrecognisable from the tiny baby's hands that had once clasped her fingers so many years ago.

As she sat beside him, she realised it had been some time since she been alone with like this. Recently, whenever she tried to, he would only brush her off and turn away, unable even to bestow a smile on her. What had happened that made him hate her? What had made him curse himself? Where had her smiling, happy son gone?

Damn the Dark Lord. Damn him! Damn Voldemort! She thought to herself, and a jolt of fear shuddered through her. He was dead and gone but still she feared saying what she thought aloud. His legacy lived on; her son's state was proof of that.

There was a small pop beside her, Narcissa sniffed back her tears and glanced at the house-elf that had appeared beside her carrying a leather suitcase above her head.

"What is it?"

"Mistress, Illy is sorry to disturb, Illy I knowing she should not be leaving the house without permission but she is wanting to bring Mistress spare clothes."

"Thank you." She said briefly.

"Illy wonders how is the young master?" the elf said peaking at her unconscious master.

"Master Draco is safe now, but will remain in hospital for the time being, as will I. Gather him some things for when he wakes up though, clothes and books and so forth" She explained.

"Of course, Mistress." The elf bowed and prepared to disapparate. Narcissa stopped her.

"Illy. Tell me, why was Draco in the cellar?"

Illy diverted her eyes and put her hands together nervously, then she began rock backwards and forwards, faster and faster. Narcissa had seen this in house elves countless times. Illy was obedient enough, so the only concern she would have for avoiding answering questions would be if she had been ordered not to by someone else and was now weighing up which order was more important.

"Illy, whatever master Draco told you, I override that."

The elf's eyes weld up with tears.

"Oh mistress. Illy begged young master not to do it . Illy doesn't like that place at all. Young master became angry with Illy, and says that I is no longer allowed to help him, but had to stand watch outside the cellar. All the while he is casting strange spells that Illy is frightened of, Mistress."

"What sort of spells?"

"Illy is not knowing spells, Mistress, but Illy is feeling something awful in the air when young Master is casting them. He is getting books from Master's library and trying many things."

"Was he trying to remove his dark mark?" Narcissa asked in a low whisper. Illy shuddered at the mention of the mark, and shook her head.

"Young master was pointing his wand at it, but Illy isn't understanding why. "

"Very well, Illy. You may go. However, when you return with Draco's belongings, I want you to bring me a list of the books he was studying from. All of them!"

"Yes Mistress." She bowed with a crack she disapparated. No sooner had she gone, there was a knock on the door and Healer Aziz returned with, what seemed to be, a superior Healer. She was a tall, dark haired woman, with horse like features and thick, round glasses. Without acknowledging Narcissa, the Healer marched forwards and examined Draco's arm.

"Hmm." She said to herself. "Aziz who told you to use this dressing?"

"No one, Healer Gerdwich, it was my own idea. It was the only thing that stopped the bleeding." Aziz said almost pleadingly. Healer Gerdwich stood up at full height again, and crossed her arms in thought.

"Well I just can't examine it like this." At last, she looked over at Narcissa. "You're the patient's mother."

"I am."

"I'm Healer Gerdwich; Head Healer in Spell Damage. Your son possesses the Death Eater's Dark Mark, is that correct?"

"He does…" Narcissa said tentatively. Even after answering so many questions during the trials, she was still unused to speaking openly about it.

"If you'd come to me before the war, I'd say we were working on unknown territory, but now we've done some research on this Mark we may be able to make some sort of diagnosis. Aziz, wake the patient up. 2 portions of Revive to 1 portion of Invigoration Draught, ought to do it. I'd rather not risk putting any more spells on him for now."

"Can't we let him sleep?" Narcissa protested. "Just for a while."

"No, for one thing I don't have all day, second we don't know what's going on under those bandages. The sooner we find out the better. Aziz?"

Healer Aziz was already pouring carefully measures spoonfuls of potion into Draco's mouth. Draco woke up, at first slowly and then all at once. His eyes suddenly darted around in a panic. Narcissa held onto him and hushed him. He looked at her with confusion then winced in pain.

"Draco Malfoy?" Gerdwich asked. "You're in St Mungo's, do you remember what happened? Draco nodded unsurely and pulled his hand out of his mother's grip. "Good. There are some questions I need to ask before we can operate any further on your arm. First of all….what were you planning to do to that tattoo of yours?" She asked jerking her head towards his arm.

Draco exhaled and closed his eyes meditatively. After some deliberation he cleared his throat hoarsely.

"To get rid of it."

Narcissa groaned audibly.

"Draco, how could you?"

Draco ignored her and focused instead on Gerdwich's solemn expression.

"Can you tell me what spell you used?" Stubbornly he shook his head, his mouth remaining tightly closed. "I see." Gerdwich said standing up straighter, she raised her eyebrows. "So it was a curse then, was it? Did you try to curse your tattoo off?"

"Of course I didn't, I'm not an idiot." Draco snapped.

"I'm glad to hear it." The healer nodded with mock admiration. "Now that I know you're a bright boy, I'll continue shall I?" She drew up a chair by magic and sat beside Draco, staring at him beadily. "Now, that tattoo on your arm, the dark mark, is a dark spell cast by a dark wizard who operated within the realms of unofficial, often illegal magic. That makes it fairly difficult to diagnose, as you can imagine. So, since you refuse to explain what happened, I will have to assume what occurred. The first guess is that you tried to remove the tattoo using a simple spell and failed, the tattoo rejected it causing this rupture in your arm. The second guess is that you were unable to use a simple spell and explored into some other, rarer magic which went terribly wrong? Which was it?"

Draco said nothing. Narcissa put her hand on his shoulder.

"Come Draco, you must tell us what happened. It doesn't matter."

But Draco glared at his mother with an anger he had never directed towards her. So surprised was she by it, that withdrew her hand and looked to Gerdwich for help.

"I can't imagine, that You-Know-Who took well to his followers trying to remove his mark," the Healer continued. "I suspect that is that there is a curse on it. Now, you may not know, but the way curses work is that they form in the wound and spread across the body like fire across gunpowder. They travel along every vein and artery, nerve tendon and bone, if necessary; until the whole host is affected. To try to avoid that, I have two options; the first is to diagnose the spell and try to reverse it. The second; is to remove your arm, and any other body part affected before the curse spreads. The choice is all yours."

"Draco…" Narcissa pleaded, but Draco only lowered his eyes, ignoring his mother.

"If I tell you the spell, that doesn't guarantee you would be able to reverse it, particularly since you're not sure how the mark may react. Is that right? Draco asked. Gerdwich nodded.

"That is true."

"Then I don't think I have many options. He said sullenly. "I cannot tell you."

"Draco you must! There is a chance-"

"I can do what I like, Mother!" He snapped. Gerdwich, although disinclined to show it, seemed rather surprised by Draco's decision. Her manner had changed slightly, the confidence she had exuded when she entered the room, was replaced by a forlorn dejection. Her nostrils flared, as she breathed in and gathered her previous authority.

"There is one more issue for you to consider, Mr Malfoy. If self preservation is not enough to sway you to tell us I have to explain that the dark mark is based on a proteon charm, which as you know, connects it to all the other Death Eaters who bear it. That's correct, is it not?"

"It is." Draco said unperturbed.

"Well, this may be affecting them too. This decision is not necessarily yours alone."

Draco sneered.

"Why should I care about them?" He asked callously. Narcissa, gasped.

"Darling…Daddy's in Azkaban." She whispered.

"They can all rot." Draco said to Gerdwich, directly. "It makes no difference to me."

Gerdwich paused, her face devoid of expression.

"As you wish…" She said, standing up and drawing away her chair. "Unfortunately, you lack the right to sentence prisoners to death, so there will be checks made on the Azkaban inmates in question, to see how they have been affected by this. Well...I will leave you to it. Somebody will come to change your bandages in about an hour. Good day Mr Malfoy." She said turning and leaving the room with Healer Aziz close behind.

Narcissa found herself caught in an awkward silence with her son. She waited for her brain to make sense of her son's decision, his stubbornness and his obvious resentment.

"Draco…" she said hestitantly.

"Mother?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"Giving up?" she shook her head. "It doesn't matter what spell you used. People get brought into spell damage for doing all sorts of spells, illegal, legal, unknown and bizarre. They are Healers they've seen it all before. The trouble you'll get in for it will be nothing to the trouble of not having it sorted out."

"How can you say that performing illegal spells won't get me into trouble? I'm on probation, Mother! You and Father have done this me…you're the reason I'm in this position."

"We can talk about this some other time, Draco. Right now we just need to get you better…"

"What have I to show for it? For all the things you and Father made me do? What do any of us have to show for it?"

"It's not worth dying for! Not after everything we've been through." She said, feeling the heat of the anger and the guilt raising up inside of her

"Who is we? Why do you always refer to my actions and decisions as we?"

"Because we have stood by each other! It is because we stood by each other, right to the very end that we're even here!"

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Good." He said darkly. "If you're so obsessed with us sticking together, I'll have my arm removed and you can care for your crippled son instead, but I'm not going to be carted off to Azkaban with the rest of them…I'd rather be dead than be counted amongst the likes of Father!"

Narcissa slapped him, as she had never done before; across his face, a great stinging slap like a uncivilised muggle. Her heart was raging so fast she was panting. Draco on the other hand only turned his face back to her with repulsion. Narcissa diverted her eyes, and stood up away from the chair, lifting the case Illy had brought. She turned to the wall and gathered her nerve, unable to look at him.

"Do as you wish. I give up!" She muttered.

* * *

 _ **AN: Thanks**_


End file.
